Whisper in the Darkness
by Adangon Pennathron
Summary: A tragic story about a man who's desire for revenge against an agent of the Dark Lord is so great, it wholly consumes him.
1. Chapter I

As always, I own nothing, except, the protagonist, his wife, and his brother. The rest is Tolkien's, and we must all thank him for coming up with it. The story takes place just before the start of the War of the Ring. Please read and review. Thanks  
  
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Whisper in the Darkness  
  
I  
  
I looked down from my front door at the plains. A low fog covered most of it, making it seem as if the bluff upon which I built my house was hovering above the clouds. If I gazed out to the west on a clear day, I could see all the way across the grasslands to the great Anduin. Beyond that lay Ithilien, the empty land, and even farther in the distance were the Ephel Duath, the Mountains of Shadow, which guarded the Black-land, Mordor. If I looked to the South, I could see the spires of Minas Tirith rising majestically above the horizon as if in defiance of the terrible afflictions the land of Gondor received from Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor, and his army of darkness.  
  
But these hazards did not concern me. In fact, I had taken measures not to involve myself with the plight of Gondor. I preferred the quiet, simple life of farming to politics or war, quite unlike my brother, Earendur, who was a member of the tower guard in Minas Tirith. There was a time when I would have loved to defend my homeland from vile creatures, but things had changed. I had met the woman I wanted to live out the remainder of my days with, and she was my only concern now.  
  
After discovering that there was nothing to see that night due to the fog, I turned and went back inside. My wife Lynna was sitting by the fire, reading quietly. I studied her features as she was resting there, as I often enjoyed doing. She let her chestnut hair hang down around her delicate shoulders. She had a pale complexion which made her look even more dainty than she really was. Her eyes were a deep brown, and they gave her a very soft gaze. Her body was slender, but not in an unhealthy way. She wore a plain colored, homespun dress. Her whole form appeared angelic to me. When she spoke, she had the sweetest voice in which I could hear the laughter of the children we would one day have together. However, her beauty, although great, was ultimately overcome by her wit and intelligence, and most of all, by her love for her me.  
  
My appearance was less striking than that of my wife. I also wore plain colored garments, the type most suitable for the grain farming that was my livelihood. I had very dark hair, which I kept short, unlike many men I knew. I also had begun to grow a beard. My boots, hands, and face were covered with dust, as they usually were after a day's toil in the fields. On my belt, I carried a sickle for harvesting grain, and in his hand he held a scythe for the same purpose.  
  
I hung my tools up on the wall, and joined Lynna by the fire. She immediately looked up from her reading, and we began to converse about the days events. Shortly thereafter, Lynna rose to prepare dinner for the two of us. Our dwelling was small and sparsely decorated, and it contained very few fine adornments. Above the fire hung my most prized possession, my great-grandfather's war sword which had been carried into battle against the fearsome orcs of Mordor. Lynna's only luxuries were two mithril goblets, enscribed with runes, and adorned with various gemstones. These she had received on our wedding day, and she cherished them greatly.  
  
I loved my wife greatly. She was everything to me. I can't believe that I forgot that. If only I had though more about my love for her, and what she would have wanted me to do, perhaps things would have turned out differently. If only I hadn't been corrupted by revenge. If only... 


	2. Chapter II

II  
  
It was late summer and my brother, Earendur, had requested my help. He had recently purchased a new house in Minas Tirith, and he needed me to assist him with bringing his possessions to his new place of residence. I left early in the morning. Lynna had woken up before me. She had already prepared my things for my journey. I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek. I looked back into her soft brown eyes as I walked out the door. I should have looked longer.  
  
As I rode away from the bluff, I heard a low rumbling noise in the distance. I thought perhaps it was thunder. I turned to look and I saw a red flash behind the Ephel Duath. The volcano was erupting again. I remember thinking that even if something was going on in Mordor, it was not my problem. Besides, I was after all under the protection of Gondor. Surely no harm could come to me.  
  
I arrived in the White City not long after. I met my brother at his old home. We loaded all of his possessions into three carts. We followed the carts on horse-back and proceeded to unload his possessions. The work was tedious, but I was happy to help. Afterwards we paid the cart drivers, retired to a tavern and had a few pints of ale. When we were finished enjoying ourselves, I invited my brother back to my house for dinner. Earendur agreed. He really enjoyed Lynna's cooking. Plus he knew I had a few bottles of our father's whiskey I needed to crack open.  
  
We rode back along the path to my house at a leisurely pace. All of a sudden, we heard a terrible shriek. It was not that of a man nor woman. To me it sounded more like that of a predatory bird. I turned to Earendur and asked if he knew what it was. He did not recognize it either. My home was just a few dozen yards in the distance.   
  
Then we heard another shriek from the direction of my house. This one was human. I thought of my wife and fear came over me. We rode faster until we came to the top of the bluff. Then I beheld a sight that killed all hope in me. I saw several dark figures on horseback riding into the distance. I turned to look at my home. The door was broken down and I could see through the windows that a struggle had taken place. For a brief moment I thought about giving chase to the vandals who had fled my home, but I decided to jump of my horse and make sure Lynna was alright. My brother followed me.   
  
I entered my home and I saw the most terrible sight any husband can ever see. My wife was lying wounded on the floor. I rushed over to her side. She was bleeding from a wound in her abdomen. I tried in vain to stop the bleeding. She just kept slipping away. There was nothing I nor my brothers healing skills could do. She reached her hand up to touch my face and with her final remainder of strength, she whispered her love to me. Then she faded away completely and was gone.  
  
That moment everything inside me died. My hopes. My dreams. My past and future. All of them gone in one instance. Forever. From that moment on I felt no love. No compassion for my fellow man. Nothing mattered. My soul had met its downfall. I only felt cold. A deep cold that ran to the core of my being. Like an infectious disease that reached inside and damaged me beyond repair. I had this sickness for the rest of my life. 


	3. Chapter III

III  
  
I stood up and backed into a corner. At first I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe it. Then I saw her laying there lifeless. And then I began to weep bitterly and openly. It was the last time I ever did.   
  
I don't know how long it lasted. I must have fallen asleep though because the next thing I remember was waking up on the floor. My brother was standing above my fireplace. He had moved Lynna's body into our bed. He had also tried to clean things up a bit. But nothing could remove the stain from my being.   
  
Later that morning, Earendur carved a headstone out of wood. He inscribed Lynna's name on it and the year and a short message about her life. While he was doing that, I dug her a grave near a small shaded area not far from our house. All the time I was laboring I could only think about the dark figures who fled my house the night before. All I wanted was to bring about justice for my wife's death.  
  
We buried her body at midday. I could not think of anything to say. In fact, I had said very little about anything at all since that morning. Noticing my silence, my brother offered a few words of comfort to me and then spoke of fond things about my wife. Finally he sang an Elvish hymn he had learned one time when he had visited the forest of Mirkwood and spent time with the Wood Elves that lived there. It was something about the Undying Lands, where the Elves go to live when their time is spent in this land. I only remember part of it:  
  
Nai vili tanalyer  
  
Or i ëar, serë mí  
  
Ilfirini Nóri yassen  
  
Lumbi úmer lanta ar  
  
Úval oi ista naicë  
  
After that I made my way back to my house. Earendur followed me. He told me that he would alert the rangers to look out for suspicious characters and to apprehend anyone who had been discovered to have been out that night. Then he asked me what I was going to do now. I told him flat out that I was going to avenge my wife's death. Then he tried to convince me that the rangers were trained to deal with such things and that he himself would head up the search. But I knew that this wasn't good enough. The rangers did not have the motivation that I did. They did not have a burning desire to enact revenge on the man who had taken not only my wife but my soul as well.   
  
So I grabbed my great-grandfather's sword off the wall and saddled up my horse for the journey. Earendur pleaded and begged me to reconsider my actions. But he did not dare to stop me. He wanted to get that bastard just as much as I did. But as I said before only I had the desire for revenge.  
  
"Don't do it" he said. "You may find you're revenge, but you will only lose yourself."  
  
"Perhaps" I said. "But that does not matter anymore. Nothing matters."  
  
With that I rode away. Just then it began to rain. As I traveled off into the distance my brother stood and watched me until I disappeared over the horizon. As he did, he listened to the eerie sound of the rain falling on the ground. 


	4. Chapter IV

IV  
  
I rode for the rest of the day and all night as well. I headed west in the general direction that the murderers had been riding in, hoping that perhaps they had stopped along the way and somebody had seen them. I rode through the land of Anorien. In every town I came to along the way I questioned the locals as to whether they had seen any strange folk about. No one, it seemed had seen anyone suspicious.  
  
So I continued riding. I eventually left Gondor and came the land of Rohan. I rode for days and encountered many of the Rohirrim, the legendary horse tamers that lived there. None had seen any shady characters lately. Eventually I came to a small village on the River Isen. I stopped at a public house at the center of town. I thought about renting a room for the night because I was very tired. I had hardly eaten of slept at all since I had left my home. I decided I would try to sleep here for the night, and in the morning I would continue my search.  
  
But before I retired for the night, I walked up to the bar and got my self a pint of strong ale. I had never been much of a drinker, but now seemed like the appropriate time to drown my sorrows in alcohol. Once I got my drink, I sat down at a table in the corner away from the rest of the patrons, where I could sit and think about my situation. Not long after I sat down, a man approached me. He wore simple farming clothes, and he looked as if he visited this tavern often. He asked if he could sit at my table and I let him.   
  
"I warn you, I might not be the best of company right now" I said to him.  
  
"My friend, you look like you have a story to tell" he replied.  
  
"Lets just say, I'm looking for some interesting characters" I said. I could tell he was intrigued by this. He finished his drink and began to question me futher.  
  
"Interesting characters ehh" he replied. "What sort of characters, may I ask?"  
  
"Dark figures on horseback."  
  
"Say that sounds vaguely familiar." I almost spilled my drink when he said this. He continued. "About four nights ago I was just coming back into town at dusk. I saw several men out in the distance riding at great speed in formation. I couldn't tell who they were exactly."  
  
"Which direction were they heading in" I asked?  
  
"I say it looks like you need this information badly" he said. A devilish look came over his face. "I might remember better what direction they were heading in once you tell me how much its worth to ya."  
  
This enraged me beyond words. To think that he would demand payment for an answer to such a simple question. I immediately stood up, grabbed him by the neck, and threw him out the door. He lay there on the ground shocked at what I had just done. I drew my sword and brought the tip to rest on his neck  
  
"Tell me old man where they rode to, or I will tell you exactly how long you have to live!" I yelled at him.  
  
"They rode west across the Isen, through the Gap of Rohan" he said. "Now please leave me alone. I...I meant no offense. I don't want no trouble."  
  
I sheathed my sword and climbed onto my horse. I did not mean to frighten the old man any further. He had told me all I wanted to know. The old man just stayed on the ground until I was out of sight. As I left the village, a great downpour started. 


End file.
